


the only place that I want to be (is right back home with you)...

by startswithhope



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Canon Compliant, Future Fic, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Smut, wedding week woes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 02:12:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19286008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startswithhope/pseuds/startswithhope
Summary: Patrick is getting worried. It’s after noon and there’s still no sign of David. And the three texts he’s sent, they haven’t even been read. He’s used to David having a very flexible idea as to the start of his workday, but this is unusual. Especially since lunch time is usually his favorite part of the day.





	the only place that I want to be (is right back home with you)...

The day had started the same as many others: sleepy kisses with Patrick until one of them had to get up and open the store (Patrick, of course), with David eventually finding his way to the shower to begin his morning routine. His hair had cooperated without too much fuss despite the humidity threatening to make it curl. With the wedding just a week away, he’d been encouraged to see near flawless skin looking back at him in the mirror as he applied his daily moisturizer, but he’d noted some tiny dark spots that could use some attention later tonight. Uneventful is what he would have called things as he set out on his walk to work.

Which is why he doesn’t understand the tears streaming down his face right now as he’s standing in the middle of the sidewalk a few blocks from his store. It’s overwhelming, like an unexpected wave rolling into a quiet beach, catching everything in its path completely unaware. He’s happy, he knows this in his bones, but there has to be a reason for the unbridled emotion wracking his body, so...he conjures something.

_This is all too good to be true._

It’s only much later that he understands that he’s done this, pulled these thoughts out of thin air. In the moment, it just feels natural to set something ablaze to explain the smoke already filling his lungs.

The store might as well be the thing on fire the way he avoids it, detouring quickly to the motel where he hopes to find the family car. By some miracle, it’s there, keys still left inside (probably thanks to Alexis), just waiting for him to make his escape. The first wash of tears haven’t even dried on his cheeks before he’s crying again, making it hard for him to drive to wherever he’s going. He just has to get out. That’s all he knows. Who is he kidding? He doesn’t know anything. So he just drives.

* * *

 

Patrick is getting worried. It’s after noon and there’s still no sign of David. And the three texts he’s sent, they haven’t even been read. He’s used to David having a very flexible idea as to the start of his workday, but this is unusual. Especially since lunch time is usually his favorite part of the day.

He decides it might be time to open his group chat, the one David isn’t on.  

> _**Patrick** : Have you seen David this morning? _
> 
> _**Alexis** : no, but the car is gone, which is really annoying as I’d actually used the sign out sheet and everything _
> 
> _**Patrick** : And your parents aren’t using it? _
> 
> _**Alexis** : they walked to the cafe. without me _
> 
> _**Patrick** : ok. thanks. Let me know if you hear from David, ok? _
> 
> _**Alexis** : where did he go? _

He has to take a deep breath before he responds back rudely, realizing too late that he should have just made a few phone calls instead. 

> _**Stevie** : he obviously doesn’t know, Alexis _

Thank you, Stevie. 

> _**Patrick** : I take it you haven’t seen him either? _
> 
> _**Stevie** : nope, but I’ll keep an eye out. you guys have a fight? _
> 
> _**Patrick** : no fight. Everything was normal when I left the apartment. I’m sure he’s fine. _

Patrick is far from sure about that, but getting everyone all worked up isn’t going to help anything. 

> _**Alexis** : do u need me to watch the store?_

And now he feels bad about wanting to be rude to her. 

> _**Patrick** : if you don’t mind, that would be helpful. Thanks! _
> 
> _**Alexis** : no prob. Be there in 15. I need more lip balm anyway _
> 
> _**Stevie** : I’ll take a bottle of wine _

Thankful for the bit of levity, Patrick releases the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His head feels a bit floaty, worry manifesting in a simmer of jitteriness he can’t seem to shake. What he hates more than anything though, is the feeling that whatever has befallen David is not some outside force, but David himself hitting some pre-wedding wall Patrick should have seen coming. But he’s helped David through anxiety attacks in the past, so him not being here and ignoring Patrick’s texts is making dread take root in his gut. It’s not a comfortable thing, worrying that the love you have for someone might not be enough, but he’s done all he can to make sure David knows how deserving he is of the love he feels for him. And he’d, maybe foolishly, believed he’d finally gotten through.

But he’s jumping like ten steps ahead here and should probably stop conjuring up worse-case scenarios until he’s done even the bare minimum of investigation.

It’s coming up on 1:15 before Alexis breezes into the store and he does his best to hide his concern, thanking her quickly before rushing out the back to climb into his car. He calls David again as soon as he’s inside and feels like he wants to vomit when it goes straight to voicemail.

When his phone rings in his hand, he nearly drops it. The screen says “Roland” and the bile rises in his throat again. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t have the wherewithal to deal with him right now, but he answers anyway.

“Patrick, hey!”

“Hi Roland, what can I…”

“So, anyhoo, I saw David’s car off the side of the road on my way out to Elmdale earlier and thought I’d let you know in case he was having car trouble or something.”

Patrick’s heart is about to beat right out of his chest and he’s turning the key on his ignition before even responding to Roland.

“When, where?”

“Oh, around 10 or so this morning, can’t remember exactly.”

“That was hours ago! Why are you just calling me now?” Patrick can’t hold back the frustration in his voice now and he couldn’t care less about it.

“Hey now, I was on the phone with Jocelyn and it was a conversation that I couldn’t just end...if you know what I mean?”

Patrick is really going to throw up.

“Whatever. Where was his car?”

“Oh, at the turn off to the state park. Are you guys…”

“Thanks, gotta go.”

Patrick has hung up and tossed his phone into the passenger seat, David’s seat, and is driving much faster than he should through town on his way to the highway. Ronnie throws him the finger as she steps out of Town Hall, but he could care less as Schitt’s Creek disappears behind him in a cloud of dirt.

* * *

 

He really wishes he’d thought to grab some food before his anxiety attack, because without Patrick here with his thoughtfully prepared picnic baskets, David’s pretty sure he’s going to die of starvation. The only thing his phone is useful for here in this signal sucking place is to tell him the time, 1:27pm, so roughly four and a half hours since he’s had any sustenance at all. He winces at his negative thought about where he is, the place where Patrick proposed. Well, the side of the road where they’d parked before hiking to where Patrick proposed, anyway (he only did the hike the first time because there was Patrick...and the promise of cheese).

It would be a lie if he pretended he doesn’t know why he drove here. And the longer he’s sat in this car, the more stupid he’s felt about whatever triggered his need to be here in the first place. Running had felt like the answer in the moment, but as he’d navigated himself through tears, he’d found himself here, the place where he’d fully realized that everything making him want to escape this town had led him to find home. Home with Patrick. Home in Schitt’s Creek. He hasn’t exactly pinpointed what caused the tears in the first place though, but they seem to have subsided and he should probably get to the store. Patrick is probably wondering where he is.

All he can hope for now is Patrick somehow not catching wind of this little freak out so they can just step into this next chapter together without…

The sound of car tires behind him have him looking in the rearview mirror and his heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach. Patrick. He’s driving faster than he should on the gravel road, kicking up dirt and rocks behind his car like a cloud of all of David’s many stupid mistakes.

David steps out of his car just as Patrick’s jumping out of his and the mere sight of him untethers David’s emotions once again. Tears are streaming down his cheeks and he’s taking heaving breaths, his body charting a course his brain seems unwilling to communicate with. And then Patrick is there. His honey brown eyes are full of concern and David wants to scream that he’s okay, that this is just his emotions going haywire or something, but the words die like autumn leaves on his tongue. Patrick just gathers him close, arms circling around his waist so David can wind himself around his neck. And David feels like maybe if he holds on for a while, maybe he can breathe again.

If he thought it was biologically possible, he’d wonder if he was pregnant, as these emotional outbursts are just incorrect. Flush with embarrassment, he tucks his head into the crook of Patrick’s shoulder and let’s the soothing words his love is whispering really sink in.

“I love you.”

“You’re okay.”

“Stay with me.”

“I love you.”

_Stay with me._ Oh god, he really scared him.

When he tries to respond, he can’t seem to get words past his nearly closed throat and takes a few centering breaths. Trying to channel some of the yoga breathing he’s learned from Twyla, he closes his eyes and counts to ten as he inhales...ten as he exhales. He feels ready to try again.

“I’m so sorry. I feel really stupid.”

Patrick squeezes him tighter, one of his hands moving up David’s back to grip the material of his sweater between his shoulder blades. David’s heart aches, hating that he’s caused this perfect man pain. Perversely, he does find a spark of relief in Patrick’s response though, his love for David palpable and not the least bit fragile.

“Don’t call the man I love stupid.” Patrick’s tone is tinged with sharpness and David is reminded of other conversations like this. He’s used to Patrick acting as his protector, usually from himself. Patrick’s helped him understand that one good relationship doesn’t magically fix the effects of the bad ones and it will take time for David to truly heal. Just as David has listened when Patrick’s opened up about his need for things to be very controlled, which they both think might be a result of Patrick feeling so out of control for so long where his sexuality was concerned. They’ve gotten quite good at talking these past two years, which is something David never could have imagined having with anyone.

Needing to see his face, he lifts his head from Patrick’s neck. The array of emotions he sees looking back at him nearly break his heart. But before he can start crying again, Patrick’s mouth is on him, kissing his tear stained cheeks, the corner of his eye and eventually, finally, his lips. Where David’s emotions had poured out in tears, Patrick’s are unloading into this kiss. It’s near desperate, his breath heaving each time he releases David’s mouth, just to go back in for more. David lets himself be pushed up against the side of his car as Patrick’s tongue curls around his, but he extricates his hands so he can cup Patrick’s face, urging him to slow the kiss to something less primal. It’s like he’s absorbing Patrick’s energy as he moves his mouth slowly over Patrick’s, so gently he can feel when Patrick relents, his whole body sagging against David as he moves his mouth to Patrick’s cheek.

“Maybe I should run away more often,” he jokes, knowing Patrick well enough now to know that it’s not too soon.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Patrick growls, the scowl on his face adorable as he can’t stop the tiny smile from breaking through. With his hands still on Patrick’s cheeks, David pulls him in for another kiss, just a soft press of lips, another “I’m sorry” breathed between them before Patrick is stepping a half step back so they’re no longer plastered against the car. There’s a weariness in his eyes that David still needs to deal with, but Patrick is already one step ahead.

“Let’s talk.”

* * *

 

Patrick leaves David leaning against his car for a moment as he walks back to his own car, popping the trunk so he can grab one of the granola bars he leaves in there for his hikes. He knows David well and is confident that this talk of theirs will go better if he isn’t dying of starvation. The smile David gives him when he sees the food lifts one of the invisible weights pressing down on his heart. As does the kiss David gives him before he hands it over, Patrick’s body somehow craving as much physical contact it can soak up. Part of him wants to just keep kissing, let his hands and lips say all the things that need to be said, but he knows that isn’t enough, so he reluctantly releases David’s lips on a soft sigh.

“Should we sit?” He motions to David’s back seat.

“Sitting sounds good,” David replies with a mouthful of granola, opening the door so Patrick can climb in.

When David is seated beside him, they both reach at the same time for each other’s hand and Patrick just smiles as he lets his fingers get woven together with David’s on his lap. The drawstring of David’s pants get caught up in the tangle, but neither of them move to fix it.

“So,” he ventures, “want to tell me what happened?”

David’s head falls back on the seat and Patrick worries that he won’t be open to this conversation, but he starts talking right away.

“I was fine one minute, crying the next. It came out of nowhere, so I’m pretty sure it was an anxiety attack. Since I was alone, I couldn’t seem to stop it and things just spiraled. And the car was just there.”

“And you ran…” Patrick doesn’t mean to cut him off, but he can’t keep the thought inside.

“Yes.” David admits, and it’s like a dagger to Patrick’s gut. “But, then I didn’t. Not really. I drove here. And as soon as I pulled over I realized I wasn’t running at all. I was panicking, sure, but not running. Not from you. Or from us.”

It’s only then that Patrick really takes in where they are. He’d been so caught up in getting to David that he hadn’t really put much thought into why coming here would mean something to David. And now he’s the one feeling stupid.

“You came to where I proposed.”

“Are you just realizing that, love?”

Patrick’s heart soars at the endearment, the one sweet nickname David has decided doesn’t sound stupid or juvenile. It’s ironic, really, considering David’s trouble with saying “I love you” in the beginning of their relationship. Now, he says love without even thinking about it and each time he does Patrick feels like he’s won a tiny prize.

“Sorry, yeah...I’m just now catching on,” he admits, giving David’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I thought I’d gotten over my fear of you leaving, but I guess I still need to work on that.”

“It’s all my fault,” he hears David whisper and Patrick can’t let him think that, not even for a minute. Turning towards him on the seat, he reaches for David’s other hand still holding his half-eaten granola bar, and pulls it to his chest to cover his heart.

“No, you’re not alone in this, David. And you’re not the only one who’s run from things in the past, remember? I never would have met you if I hadn’t run from my old life to Schitt’s Creek. Hell, we wouldn’t even be sitting here if I hadn’t needed a place to escape to deal with the feelings I was having for you back in the beginning of all this.”

“So, what you’re saying is we’re both Julia Roberts in Runaway Bride?” David’s throwing humor in to keep things light, as he does, and it grounds Patrick a bit more somehow to see that things really do feel back to normal.

“I haven’t seen that, but no, neither of us is running. Not anymore.” His eyes are serious now as he holds David’s gaze, wanting him to see the conviction, not just hear the words.

“No, no more running,” David says back with just as much conviction. “And thank you for the food, by the way. Honestly, now that I’ve calmed down and eaten something, I think it might have just been stress or anxiety. Wedding stuff, you know? I’m such a perfectionist and I think I’ve been putting too much importance on every little thing and not sleeping my usual 9 hours and my body just needed to find a way to tell me it was overwhelmed or something. And then you were here and I was embarrassed and needing you all at the same time, so I broke down all over again. I don’t know If that makes sense at all?”

Patrick squeezes his hand to bring David’s eyes back to his from where they’ve fallen to his lap.

“Total sense, David. And if it helps, let me just remind you that I love you. And I’ll be there at the end of the week, ready to marry you, even if _every little thing_ isn’t perfect. Because you’re perfect...to me.”

David lets out a long breath and as his chest collapses, he smiles. It’s a smile he’s only seen a few times, but all of those times are tattooed on Patrick’s heart. After their first kiss, during his serenade, in David’s room after that stupid Ken incident, and when they’d been slow dancing on his birthday (also known as the moment Patrick was sure he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this man)... all very different scenarios, but that smile, it’s the same.

And just like all those other times, all Patrick wants is to feel that smile pressed to his lips. So he leans in and kisses him, tasting granola on his lips as even more of it falls to his lap when David drops the uneaten half so he can grab Patrick’s neck. This time it’s David bringing the heat, fingers delving down under his collar to pull Patrick in closer, his mouth opening beneath Patrick’s in invitation for Patrick’s tongue. It’s been a long time since they’ve done this, this heated making out in the back of David’s car and god, he didn’t realize until now how much he’s missed it. The privacy they have now is amazing, but being cramped together like this is making his blood run hot as an inferno. It’s like they’ve been transported back to simpler times, that early exploration of their bodies, learning what felt good and all the ways to drive each other crazy. And fuck, it’s exactly what they need right now.

David obviously agrees, as he’s untangled their other hands and is tugging Patrick’s shirt out of his pants, fingers working the buttons open from the bottom up. Instead of helping, Patrick moves his mouth to David’s neck, nibbling lightly just below his ear, knowing it will draw out a...yep, there’s the moan. His hand finds the juncture of David’s thighs, palm pressing into the loose material of David’s pants until he finds his target. David’s hips rise to meet his hand and Patrick bites down lightly into the skin of David’s neck, his own pants getting noticeably tighter now that David’s hands have swiped the granola bar remnants from his lap and moved to work at opening his belt.

They’re honestly a big jumble of hands and mouths now, with David losing patience with the belt and just going straight for Patrick’s zipper while Patrick, free from any such obstruction, has worked his hand down the front of David’s pants and is palming him in earnest. With his free hand, Patrick drags David’s mouth back to his, kissing him with all the passion from before, just free from the fear that had been driving it. Their sex life is one that Patrick would qualify as adventurous and he loves every second of it, but there’s a small part of him that would be happy just kissing David for hours, nothing else, just kissing. Now though, they both need less of a simmer and more a release.

Licking into his mouth as his hand slides into David’s boxer briefs, he tastes David’s gasp as his hand finally takes hold of David’s cock. David’s attention to Patrick’s zipper falls away, but Patrick couldn’t care less as David begins to pant against his lips, his hands now gripping Patrick’s waistband as his hips rock in time with Patrick’s hand.

“Fuck, you’re so hard,” he whispers into David’s mouth as he twists his hand just so, swallowing David’s groan as he kisses him again. David’s body is as familiar as his own, and he knows he’s already close and he quickly catalogs his options. But David reminds Patrick that he has some say in this, too, as his hands move from Patrick’s pants to his face to keep him there, kissing him. So, that’s what Patrick does. He kisses David until they are both sweaty and David is trembling beside him, his release coating Patrick’s hand and the inside of his very expensive sweater.

David doesn’t seem to care. Especially when Patrick stays kissing him as he works his belt and zipper open with his free hand to free his own cock before he comes uncomfortably in his jeans. Using the hand still slick with David’s come, he strokes himself hard and fast, thankful that David has taken control of their kiss as he’s close to falling apart. “Come for me, love…” David begs him between kisses, his hands on Patrick’s neck and chest like brands as Patrick’s hips buck into own his hand and he does as commanded, coming hard enough for him to see stars behind his closed eyes.

They are an absolute mess, but their kisses turn into smiles and Patrick shakes his head before leaning back into the seat next to David’s shoulder. He looks over at David, this man, all flushed and perfectly imperfect, who’s smiling at him as if they are in on a secret only they will ever know.

“Well, we certainly like to make memories in this place, don’t we?”

David laughs and Patrick swears he could fall in love with him all over again. A part of him probably does.

“I’d say we’ve mastered the happy ending of the memory making, but our beginnings really need some work.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much to Jess for helping with this one. She's been a godsend.


End file.
